Hindsight
by anongurl
Summary: A couple is given the chance to reunite after a tragedy... M/C
1. Foresight is blind

**_AN: I'm still working on TO On the Streets, but this was a new idea that I got and wanted to get started on it ASAP. The first chapter is really short, please forgive me, but it is worth a read. Chapter two is done, just needs to be typed up. It will be up soon and is much longer._**  

People say hindsight is twenty-twenty, and they're right. You look back and it's obvious; the outcome of your actions, but it's not obvious prior to these actions, not visible at all. Maybe hindsight is twenty-twenty, but foresight is blind. 

We were so oblivious, so naïve. We lived so freely, almost in our own reality. We had never experienced tragedy; we thought nothing could touch us. We were invincible. We were young, had little responsibility, had no worries. 

            I wish we could go back to the way we were, but I know that can never happen. There's no 'they' anymore. I'm all that's left, and I hate it. I hate myself for being here, for being alive. I wish I could at least go back to that morning, the biggest regret of my life. 

            She'd planned a party for her best friend. I had to work late. I told her. We argued. I left because I didn't want to fight. I told her this, but I didn't tell her anything else. I had told her every day until then, multiple times a day even, but not that day. I hate myself for hesitating, for standing outside the door, debating over whether or not to go back in. I hate myself for leaving without returning, for leaving the building without going back. I told myself I would call her at lunch, but I was busy and put it off. I never saw her again, never heard her voice, never got to say _I love you._

AN: Again, sorry it's so short. Chapter two up soon. Did you like it? Do you know who it is? I needed to keep it short to keep you guessing. Please stayed tuned.


	2. Wishing

**_Chapter 2: Wishing_**

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**_Disclaimer: (forgot in first chapter) I don't own the characters. I am not making any profits off of this, it is purely for entertainment._**

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**_A/N: To an answer a question, no this is not like that episode of ER, although I did see it, I had forgotten about it. I came up with the title on my own, not from the episode. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter._**

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            He sat motionless on the chair, in a silent, dark room. The chair was situated by the large, bright window, but he had the curtains drawn. There was only a small slit, allowing a single ray of light to penetrate the dreary room. He sat beside the slit, staring seemingly staring out, but his eyes not seeing. He sat there most days, only emerging from the dark, depressing room by his mother's urgent pleas. She had been the one he had called from the hospital; she was the only one he could call, he had no one else.

            He sighed and leaned forward, his face in his hands. He hated this room, he hated its depressing ness. It was a constant reminder of his state, both physical and mental. He wanted to get up and leave, but couldn't; he hadn't walked in months. He wanted to get out on his own again, but he had nowhere else to go. He had been living here for a month now, and hated it, but couldn't seem to escape. He had enough in the bank to get a plane ticket to a new city, to start over, but couldn't care for himself yet, not with his newly found dependence. It had been four months now, one month at home, one in the hospital under constant supervision and two in a different section of the hospital, unconscious. 

            He had been a John Doe, hit by a car in the street, no identification and no matching to any missing persons. He almost wished he had awoken with amnesia, and was able to truly start over. He wouldn't know who he was, or who he had lost. He would have no memories of the past, no pain, no regrets. Chandler was pulled from his thoughts at the sound of movement down the hall. He knew his mother would be coming to see him soon, to beg him to come out and eat something. He sighed and decided to save her a trip.    

            Nora looked up as she heard movement and smiled sadly as she spotted her son wheeling himself down the hall. It was such a sad sight. His eyes were bloodshot, with dark lines framing the bottom of them. He looked well past his age. He was only 29 and had been through more than most experience in a lifetime. He had lost everything: his friends, his _family_, he had lost his future, his job, the love of his life. Nora shook her head, attempting to clear her thoughts and pasted a smile on her face to greet her son.

            "Hey, Kid," she greeted him.

            "Hi,' Chandler said back.

            Nora sighed. His voice held no emotion, no feelings, no anything. She was so afraid of loosing him to depression. He had last his sense of living. There was nothing left of him. 

            "Are you ready to go?" She asked him.

            Chandler looked up at her, a questioning look on his face. "Where?"

            Nora turned away, unable to look into his eyes. The intensity was too much for him. They were too sad; just one look and you knew he had been to hell and back. She covered by getting two glasses out of the cupboard and filling them with orange juice. She took a deep breath and turned back, handing Chandler a glass, careful to not look into his eyes.

            "You have physio today," she said.

            Chandler's brow furrowed. "I though that was on Thursday."

            Nora motioned towards the calendar, "today is Thursday," she told him.

            Chandler sighed. "I can't seem to keep track of time."

            "That's because you spend too much time in that room of yours. It's not good for your health."

            Chandler shrugged. It was obvious he no longer cared about himself. "Whatever," he said.

            Nora sighed. "Well, are you ready to go? Cause we have to be there in half an hour."

                        *                      *                      *                      *                      *

            They arrived at the hospital and Nora helped Chandler out of the car and back into the wheelchair. He was able to stand and take a couple steps with help and support, so was able to get in and out of the car with little difficulty. She would have gone in with him, but knew he didn't like it. He missed his independence. She simply told him to call when he was ready to go.

            Chandler said goodbye to his mom and wheeled himself through the double-automatic doors and into the front foyer, he made a right and headed down the hall towards the physiotherapy unit. He reached the door and took a deep breath, preparing himself, before pressing the wheelchair button to open the door. 

            "Good morning, Chandler," Mandy, his physiotherapist, greeted him. She was a very bright and bubbly person.

            "Morning," Chandler said.

            "And how are you today?"

            Chandler shrugged. "Same as always."

            Mandy smiled sadly. She wished there was something she could do to help him. He always seemed so depressed, so down.

            "Well, let's get to work," she said.

            They spent the next hour going through exercises and having Chandler take a few steps, with help of a heavy metal bar in the center of the room. He had severely damaged legs, the left more than the right. The surgeons had been forced to put in multiple disks and pins to hold the pieces of bone together. He was lucky he hadn't lost the leg. He was also given a few ultrasounds, to increase the circulation, and a PMF treatment for the pain. 

            He was preparing to leave when his doctor walked into the room.

            "Hello, Chandler," Dr. Connor said, holding out his hand. "How are you feeling today?" 

            Chandler shook his hand. "Hi, Dr. Conner. I'm starting to feel a bit better."

            "Yeah," Mandy said, walking over. "He's doing great, even walking a bit."

            Dr. Conner smiled and nodded. "Very good, Chandler. Hopefully you'll be out of that chair soon."

            Chandler shrugged. "Hopefully."

            Dr. Conner frowned slightly. "Mandy, could you leave us alone for a second?"

            "Sure," Mandy said and walked away.  
  


            Chandler gave Dr. Conner a questioning look.

            "Chandler," Dr. Conner began. "I'm very pleased with your physical recovery. Your x-rays last week were excellent, but I am, however, concerned by your emotional recovery."

            Chandler said nothing, only sighed sadly and looked down.

            "Now, I know you have been through a lot, Chandler, but you are lucky to be alive. You don't seem happy about that. It's very common to suffer from post-traumatic stress, and I think it would benefit you to talk to someone. I made you an appointment with Dr. Harper, she's the best psychologist in the hospital."

            Chandler looked up. "You want me to see a shrink. I don't know…"

            "Just go see her a couple times. If she thinks you are okay, I'll get off of your back." Chandler still seemed unsure. "I won't take no for an answer."

            Chandler rolled his eyes. He really didn't care much for telling someone about his personal feelings, but somewhere in the past months he had lost his will to care. "Fine, when do you want me to go?"

            "Your fist appointment is in five minutes."

                        *                      *                      *                      *                      *

            Chandler cautiously entered the office and was surprised. He had expected it to look like the rest of the hospital; with the whitewashed walls and hard plastic chairs, but it was much different. The room clashed significantly from the rest of the hospital with the large, well-worn couch and two recliners situated around a coffee table. A desk was set in the back corner, its surface cluttered. There were cartoons and pictures posted on the colorful wall. He could also see a small fridge on a table, along the other wall, beside a coffee maker and radio. It was a very upbeat, comfortable room.

            "You must be Chandler," the woman seated at the desk said. She appeared to be in her mid-forties, with slightly graying, brown hair and a warm smile.

            "Yeah, that's me," Chandler said.

            "It's nice to meet you," she said, getting up and walking over to him. "My name is Ann."

            "It's nice to meet you, too," Chandler said, automatically.

            "Well, lets get started. You can just park yourself wherever you feel comfortable. Would you like something to drink?" She asked walking over to the fridge.

            "A water would be great," Chandler said, feeling somewhat nervous.

            Ann returned with two waters, handing him one. She proceeded over to the couch and collapsed onto it, her feet up on the coffee table. 

            "So," she started. "Tell me why you're here to see me."

            Chandler shrugged. "My doctor sent me."

            Ann laughed. "If I had a dollar for every time someone had said that to me I'd be retired by now."

            Chandler smiled slightly. He liked Ann. She reminded Chandler of himself, or his past self.

            "Okay than," Ann said. "Tell me why he sent you."

            "Don't you already know this?"

            Ann shook her head. "Nope."

            "They didn't send you my chart, or talk to you?"

            Again, she shook her head. "I prefer to have the patients tell me what happened, and what's wrong. That way I can get an idea of what you went through, instead of what your body went through."

            Chandler nodded. That made sense to him. "I got hit by a car."

            Ann laughed. "You're very talkative," she said sarcastically. 

            Chandler almost laughed at the irony. He used to be the sarcastic one.

            Ann smiled. "Give me some more details."

            Chandler sighed. "It was my fault. I wasn't paying attention. I ran right in front of the car. The guy behind the wheel didn't have a chance to stop. 

            Ann offered a small smile; he seemed to be carrying some guilt. "Were you in a hurry?"

            Chandler hesitated. "Sort of."

            "What do you mean?"

            "Well, I was running. I was in a hurry, but I wasn't going anywhere. I was just running."

            "Why were you running?"

            "I had to get away."

            "Away from what?"

            Chandler didn't answer. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, fighting off the wave of tears that were actively threatening to fall.

            Ann noted his discomfort and changed the subject immediately. She knew he had been pushed too far for the first day. It was something she did for every patient on the first visit. She had to know how far was too far. She changed the subject to his physical recovery. Patients could always talk about their injuries, because they didn't have to touch on their emotions.

                        *                      *                      *                      *                      *

            Two days later, Chandler finished his physiotherapy and headed up to see Ann. Although he hated to admit it, he looked forward to the appointment. It made him feel good to talk to someone.

            "Hello again, Chandler," Ann greeted him, warmly.

            "Hi."

            They got settled with drinks, Ann on the couch, Chandler in his wheelchair.

            "How was physio this morning?"

            Chandler nodded. "It was good."

            "That's good," Ann said. "And how have you been feeling?"

            Chandler shrugged. "The same."

            Ann laughed. "And we're back to be ever so talkative," she said sarcastically.

            Chandler gave a short, rye laugh. "Cause it's so easy to give long, in depth answers to your deep, meaningful questions," he shot back.

            "Oh!" Ann said. "He can joke."

            Chandler smiled. "You have no idea."

            "What do you mean?"

            "I, uh, used to joke all the time. I had a comment about everything. My friends always complained, but in a goodd way."

            "Used to?" Ann inquired.

            "Before that day."

            "The day of your accident?"

            Chandler nodded.

            "You don't joke anymore because you got hit by a car?"

            Chandler shook his head.

            "Is this to do with what you were running from?"

            Chandler was silent.

            "Does that mean yes?"

            Chandler nodded, slowly.

            "Are you ready to tell me what happened?"

            Chandler sighed, looking down. "There's not much to tell."

            "What happened?" Ann pried softly, her voice soft.

            "I was walking home and had a bad feeling. I had had a bad feeling all day. As I got closer I heard sirens and saw smoke. I was praying it wasn't my building, but I knew it was. I could just feel it.

            "You're building was on fire?"

            Chandler nodded. "I finally made it to the right street. I was running as fast as I could. There were flames everywhere and so much smoke…The building started collapsing. They…" Chandler felt his emotions get the better of him as his voice cracked, but he continued anyway. "They told me no one above the second floor had gotten out. The fire started low and spread too fast…They couldn't get out. They tried to, but they couldn't. They must have been so scared." Chandler lost control on the tears that had threatened to spill for so long. 

            "Who were _they_?" 

            Chandler took a deep breath, trying to retake control of his emotions. "They were everything to me; my friends, my _family_."

            Ann smiled sadly. "Tell me about them."

            Chandler sighed. "There were six of us. We were so close. We lived close together and had known each other for years. Joey lived across the hall from me and Monica. Mon's brother, Ross, lived across the road. Phoebe and Rachel lived down the street. It was Rachel's birthday. They were all at my apartment…I should have been there too…I was working late…I wish I had been there."

            "You know if you had been there you wouldn't have been able to do anything to help. And you wouldn't be sitting there today."

            Chandler nodded.

            "Do you wish you had died?"

            Chandler sighed. "I do. And don't get me wrong. I'm not suicidal or anything. I just wish I had been there."

            "Why?"

            "I would rather die young with people I loved than die of old age alone."

AN: Sorry it took me so long to get this chapter up, but I was busy with school and my other fic. Chapter three should be up soon. Thanks for reading and please tell me what you think.


	3. Insight into a Troubled Mind

**_Chapter 3: Insights into a Troubled Mind_**

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            Chandler tossed and turned in his sleep as the memories of that day came back to him.

            _He walked down the street, the bouquet of flowers in his hand. His stomach turned slightly and he felt his pulse race slightly. He had been feeling off all day, like a deep ominous feeling of dread, which he hadn't be able to shake._

_            He was looking down as she walked, in full New York City walking fashion, speeding down the sidewalk, his eyes down. The sound of the sirens in the near-distance caught his attention and he looked up to see smoke billowing up, above the rows of buildings on his left. His blood ran cold as his brain told him that was the direction of his apartment, of **them, **of **her.**_

_            He sped up, not caring who he bumped into. The closer he got, the faster he ran. By the time he rounded the last corner, he was running faster than he thought he ever could._

_            He sprinted to the police barriers, pushing his way through the thick crowd of curious onlookers. He ignored the dirty looks and his frantic behavior caught the attention of a police officer._

_            "Did everyone get out?" Chandler asked frantically._

_            "Do you know someone who lives here?" The policeman asked._

_            Chandler ignored the question. "My friends were in their, my girlfriend. Please tell me they got out. Tell me they're okay," Chandler begged._

_            The policeman sighed, and then asked quietly, "What floor were they on?"_

_            "Five," Chandler answered. As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he had the answer. The policeman immediately avoided eye contact with him, looking away._

_            "I'm sorry, Sir, but no one above the second floor got out. The fire began on the first floor and spread too quickly…"_

_            Chandler felt his heart stop and he felt his whole body begin to tremble. He stopped listening to the cop and he dropped the flowers and staggered backwards, out of the crowd. He vomited onto the street, his head spinning. He couldn't process thought, or even pick one thought out from another. He couldn't breath and began to hyperventilate, his body desperately attempting to get some much-needed oxygen into his system. He stood there for a few moments, staring at the burning building, staring at the destruction of his life, of his happiness, of any stability he had ever had. He shook his head. He couldn't be there anymore. He couldn't stand there, watching his life fall away from him. He did the one thing that he could think of as his sympathetic nervous system kicked in and flight dominated fight. He ran. _

_            He ran and ran, thoughts flooding into his mind. He had lost everything. He had lost **her, them.** He had lost his future, his one chance at happiness. He ran through crowds of people, not caring about the dirty looks and gestures he was getting. He ran for blocks, cutting through traffic. He didn't know how long he had been running, and had no intentions to stop until he crossed one particular intersection. _

_            He didn't see the car driving down the street, didn't hear the frantic shouts from the sidewalk, didn't hear the horn, or the screeching of tires. He didn't even feel the impact, only suddenly realized he was no longer in motion. He was lying on a cold, hard surface, staring up. A mass of faces swarmed around him, but he couldn't focus on any of them. He felt blackness rush over him and gladly welcomed it._

_                        *                      *                      *                      *                      *_

            A month later, Chandler sat in Ann's office, leaning against the back of the couch, his left leg up on the coffee table. His right leg had healed enough for him to get around on crutches. He loved the feeling of being independent again, even if it was only a small step. For the past month he had been in to see Ann every week, and it was helping. He was feeling happier.

            They talked mostly about Chandler's accident and recovery, even about his improving relationship with his mother. They rarely touched on the incident before his accident, very much the cause of his accident. He wasn't ready to talk about it yet, not all of it. Ann was being very patient. She knew he would bring it up when he was ready.

            "So," Ann was saying. "I'm glad you're up and on your feet again. Tell me, how did you feel when you woke up in the hospital? What were you thinking? Did you remember anything?"

            Chandler sighed. "I remembered everything. I hated myself for remembering. The first couple days I just lay there, wishing I were dead, wishing I had died. I mean I had two very close calls with death, what with the fire and being hit by the car, you'd think one of them would have gotten me. I would lie there and wish I had gone home earlier, or wish the car had been going faster." Chandler broke off slightly, not wanting to talk about his thoughts anymore. "I told them my name, I had been a John Doe up until I woke up, and they called my mom. She came to New York and stayed in a hotel for a week, until I was well enough to leave. Then she flew me here and I've been staying with her."

            "So, one good thing has come out of this accident," Ann said. "Your relationship with your mom has improved."

            Chandler shrugged. "If you want to look at it that way."

            "Do you feel close to your mom?"

            Chandler nodded. "I do, I like that I can talk to her now, but I know this wouldn't have happened if I hadn't been hurt. I think she just felt sorry for me, and responsible to take care of me because she's my mother."

            Ann nodded. She knew he and his mother needed some help to work out their difficulties. "Why do you think you two grew apart so much?"

            "Oh, we didn't grow apart. We were never close. She was never around. My parents divorced when I was nine and she was off with her boyfriends all the time. She never had time for me."

            Ann nodded. He had told her a fair amount about his parents. "And what about your dad?"

            Chandler sighed. "I haven't talked to my dad for, like, ten years. I barely saw him after the divorce and eventually I gave up trying to contact him. It was obvious he didn't want to know me anymore. He was too busy with his boyfriends." Chandler laughed somewhat cynically.

            "Were you lonely as a child?"

            "I didn't think so at the time, but I look back and I know I was. I hated my life. My parents wouldn't talk to each other and would carry on fights through me. I never had any stability. My mom would only be with each guy for a matter of weeks and as soon as one was discarded, another was there it his place. I grew up not knowing what love was, what commitment was. I didn't know how happy two people could be together. I grew up not knowing what happiness was. I swore to myself that I would never be like them. I was always afraid of commitment, of having kids. I never trusted myself to not hurt her, or any kids we would have."

            "Did you want these things, even though you were afraid to have them?"

            Chandler looked down and nodded sadly. "I did. I really did. I had this craving to be with someone, to be really and truly devoted to one person for the rest of my life. I wanted it so badly."

            "Did you ever tell anyone?"

            Chandler shook his head. "My friends knew I was commitment phobic, but they thought I didn't want commitment. They never knew I was scared."

            "Why didn't you tell them?"

            Chandler shrugged. "It was a little embarrassing, wanting something I was so scared of. I never admitted to it."

            "Do you still want these things?"

            Chandler hesitated. "I can't really answer that," he said, finally.

            "What do you mean?"

            "Well, I do want all those things, but I'll never have them."

            "Why not?"

            Chandler sighed. "Because the person I want all those things with is gone."

            "Monica?" Ann asked.

            Chandler nodded.

            "Tell me about her," Ann said, gently.

            Chandler sighed and smiled slightly. "She was amazing. She was my best friend. I could tell her anything. I could trust her completely and I know she trusted me. I could never hurt her. We were close for years before we got together. She knew I was scared of commitment, I don't know how, but she just seemed to know. She was so good about it, so patient and understanding. I loved her so much, we were meant to be together. She was such a good person, She didn't deserve to die, especially not like that." Chandler's voice cracked slightly and he trailed off.

            "It sounded like you really loved her."

            "I did, I really did."

            "Am I right in thinking you two lived together?"

            Chandler nodded.

            "For how long?"

            "About six months, but we lived across the hall form each other before moving in together, so we were never far away from each other."

            "Sounds nice."

            "It was. I wish I could go back in time. I wish I could have prevented it from happening. I wish I could have been there."

            "Even if there was nothing you could have done to help?"

            "I can't stop thinking about how scared they must have been. I know I would have been scared too, but I would have been able to be there for her…" he trailed off, feeling tears well up behind his eyes.

            Ann handed him a box of Kleenex, which he readily accepted and quickly wiped his eyes.

            "Chandler, it's okay to cry," Ann said. "It's normal to mourn for the loss of loved ones."

            "But I should have been there for her. I could have held her and comforted her. I could have told her I loved her."

            "She knew you loved her."

            Chandler shook his head. "I didn't say it when I had the chance."

            "When was that?"

            "That morning," Chandler said, the tears falling freely down his cheeks. "We were arguing and I told her I didn't want to fight, and I left. I didn't say I love you. I always said it, all the time, every day, but not that day. I never saw her again."

            Ann sighed sadly. She could barely comprehend the amount of guilt he was carrying around. "Chandler, I know how this must seem to you, but it was only a little fight. If the building had never burned down I'm sure you two wouldn't even remember the fight now. You need to know that she knew you loved her. You said it yourself, that you told her all the time. You said you said it everyday. 

            Chandler said nothing, just sat on the couch, his face in his hands, asking himself one question: _ How had his life come to this?_

AN: Well, how was it? Are you enjoying it? Please let me know what you think, I want to be a writer, so I'm attempting all types of writing. The next chapter will move a little faster and stuff will happen. (Could I be anymore vague?)

               


	4. A Light Appears

**_Chapter 4: A Light Appears_**

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**_AN: So sorry about the delay, but I had midterms and then my computer went down and then I injured my shoulder and couldn't type/write and then my computer crashed and my Internet stopped working. Needless to say this was the soonest I could update. Updates should be more regular from now on (fingers crossed)Oh, and if you have been reading TO on the Streets, I've stared the next chapter and it should be up in the next couple of days. Hope you enjoy.  _**        

Chandler sighed sadly as he sat alone, staring at the small, framed picture in front of him. It was the only picture he had left of his friends. It had been on his desk at work and he had gotten it when his office sent him his stuff. They had been forced to replace him, as they had not known why he had suddenly failed to turn up for work. 

            It was such a perfect picture. They were sitting in Central Perk, just hanging out; when the flash went off, capturing a single, perfect moment between the gang. 

            Chandler and Monica were huddled together, his left arm draped lovingly over her shoulder and she was leaning her head against him. His right hand held hers, and their fingers were intertwined. They looked so happy and comfortable with one another; so in love. Chandler studied the happy, laughing expression on both their faces. Chandler had leaned a little closer as they laughed together at a joke Rachel, who was sitting beside Monica, had said about Monica and Chandler. Ross was mock-glaring at Rachel, as the idea of his best friend and his sister was still a touchy subject. Phoebe was seated beside Rachel, her guitar leaning against her leg. She was laughing as well and was just opening her mouth, most likely to defend Rachel's comment with one of her own. She loved tormenting Ross, in a joking way. Joey was sitting on the other chair, still laughing, but looking expectantly at Phoebe, anticipating her response. 

            Chandler felt a tear slide down his cheek. It was the six-month anniversary of the fire, and all he had left to remember his friends were a single, well-worn photograph. He had never felt so alone.

                        *                      *                      *                      *                      *

            Two months later, Chandler found himself alone in his mother's house. Nora was out of town on business and would be gone for a couple weeks. He was making significant progress in physiotherapy and had graduated to walking with a cane. He could only hope it wouldn't be long before he could walk on his own. As soon as he felt strong enough, he could move out on his own. He had recently inherited a house and a large sum of money from an uncle he had only met as a child. The house was in a small, residential area on the outskirts of New York City. It was a nice house, and needed only minor renovations. He had been to see it a couple times and had had it painted, inside and out, and was in the process of ordering furniture. It was hard for him to have the furniture delivered, as he was unable to be there at the time, seeing as he was living in a different state.

            Chandler sighed as he flipped through the channels on the television. He couldn't find anything interesting to watch. He had been going to see Ann every week for the past two months and was slowly beginning to come to terms with what had happened. However, he still had a long way to go. He just felt so utterly alone.

            Chandler heard a knock at the door and got up. He hobbled over to the front hall and swung open the door. He was taken aback to see Kathy standing in the doorway. She looked nervous.

            "Kathy?"

            "Hi…Chandler," Kathy stared. "I, uh, need to talk to you."

            "O-kay," Chandler said. "Come on it."

            Kathy stepped in beside him and waited for him to make the first move.

            Chandler hobbled over to the kitchen table, and sat down. He motioned for her to follow.

            "What happened to you?" Kathy asked.

            "Got hit by a car," Chandler replied bluntly.

            "That's terrible! How did it happen?"

            Chandler shrugged. "I wasn't paying attention. It was my fault."

            "How long ago did it happen?"

            "Eight months."

            "That's terrible," she repeated.

            There was silence.

            "So," Chandler prompted. "Are you here for a reason or just simply to say hi?"

            Kathy sighed and seemed to struggle with something. "I've been looking for you for a while now. I went too your apartment, but it wasn't there anymore. They told me it burnt down. I was afraid you were dead…" She trailed off when she noticed the change in Chandler's expression. "What?"

            Chandler sighed. "I was at work when it burnt down. I had a late meeting. I was supposed to be there. It was Rachel's birthday…"

            "Oh, God," Kathy said. "Everyone else. They were in there, weren't they?"

            Chandler nodded sadly. "All of them. I'm all that's left," he finished bitterly.

            "Oh, Chandler. I'm so sorry. That's so terrible for you."

            Chandler shrugged. "It was awful, but I'm dealing. There's not much else I can do."

            Kathy nodded. "Well, that's good, I guess."

            "So," Chandler said, changing the subject. "You were saying?"

            "Oh, right. So, I looked up your name in the phone book, but you weren't there so I searched for you for a while before I had the idea to look up your mom. It was hard to find her, seeing as she's a writer and all. She wasn't listed. It was hard to find you, but here I am."

            Chandler was somewhat apprehensive about answering. He wasn't sure of Kathy's motives. "I don't really know what to say, Kathy. If you're saying you want to start something up again, I have to tell you; I'm really not in a place where I'm ready to be in another relationship…"

            Kathy cut in. "Oh, that's not what I'm here for." She held up her left hand and pointed towards the diamond ring on her third finger. "I'm engaged."

            "Oh," Chandler said, trying to hide the relief he was feeling. 

            Kathy was about to say something when she stopped and looked at Chandler, concerned. "What did you mean by 'another relationship'?"

            "Oh, nothing," Chandler said. "Don't worry about it."

            "No, it's okay. You can tell me."

            Chandler sighed. "M-monica and I were together. We were living together, actually."

            "And she was there, in the fire. She's…dead?"

            Chandler nodded, and took a deep breath, maintaining control over his emotions. 

            "Oh, Chandler. I'm so sorry."

            "Thanks."

            "So, you and Monica? I can't say I'm surprised."

            "What do you mean?"

            "You two were always so close. I was actually a little jealous when we were going out."

            "Really?"

            Kathy nodded.

            Again, there was silence.

            "So," Kathy finally said. "Back to what I was saying. I recently got engaged."

            "Congrats," Chandler said.

            "Thanks. Anyway, he's a really great guy and I really want to have a family with him, and he wants to with me."

            "O-kay," Chandler said, not sure of where she was going.

            Kathy hesitated. "I don't really know how to tell you this, but…I…" She trailed off.

            "Just say what you came here to say," Chandler said gently, prompting her.

            "Okay. Uh, after we broke up I, uh, …I found out I was pregnant."

            "P-pregnant?" Chandler stumbled out. 

            "I gave birth to a baby girl. She's yours."

            "M-mine? But I can't have a child. That would make me a father. I can't be a father. I…"

            "I know how you feel," Kathy said, cutting him off. "I felt the same way. I had no idea how I was going to rasie a daughter on my own."

            Chandler turned to her. "You didn't have to be alone. You should have told me. I would have been there. You know that."

            Kathy sighed. "I know. I should have told you and I'm sorry, but I was scared."

            Chandler was silent as he contemplated how to handle the situation.

            "I named her Samantha, Samantha Bing. She's four and a half."

            "You gave her my last name?"

            Kathy nodded. "I always wanted her to know who her dad was."

            "Can I meet her?"

            "Of course, that's actually what I'm here about; custody."

            "I want joint custody," Chandler said quickly. "If I have a daughter then I want to get to know her. I want to spend time with her. I want to be a good father, or at least try."

            "I know you do," Kathy said. "And I know you will be a great father."

            "When can I meet her?"

            "Today," Kathy said. "She's in the car."

            "You left a four year old alone in a car?"

            Kathy shrugged. "Oh, she's fine. Don't worry."

            "But…"

            Kathy didn't let him speak. "I didn't want her to be here because I need to talk to you."

            "About?"

            "Well, I'm getting married soon and both my fiancé and I are very interested in starting a family, however he wants it to be _our_ family."

            Realization began to dawn on Chandler.

            "…A Samantha will never be his. He will never accept her and I don't want that to get in the way of out relationship."

            "What are you saying?"

            Kathy took a deep breath and looked Chandler square in the eye. "Either you take full custody of her, or I'm giving her up for adoption."

            "What?!" Chandler exclaimed.

            "You heard me."

            "Well, Kathy, I don't know exactly what to say. You come here and drop this bombshell on me. I don't know what to think about all of it."

            "Well, believe it Chandler."

            "I can't believe you would do this too your own daughter. It's just not right."

            Kathy rolled her eyes. "It's not like I'm killing her Chandler. I'm making sure she has everything she needs; I just don't want to be her mother anymore. I want to have my fiancés children. He doesn't want her. He could never be her father. She looks so much like you Chandler; people would always know that she wasn't his. He doesn't want that."  

            Chandler said nothing. He only looked down, deep in thought.

            "I really need to get going soon, Chandler. What's it gonna be?"

            Chandler didn't respond for a few moments. Finally he shook his head and looked up, right into Kathy's eyes, taking her by surprise. She hadn't ever noticed the intensity that accompanied his stare before. He looked right into her eyes and she could practically read his mind. She could see his emotions, his pain, his confusion and his obvious disappointment in her. She chose to ignore the latter, as she wanted this and could always have kids later.

            "I couldn't ever imagine giving my child away," Chandler said, evenly, his gave not wavering in the least. "There is no way in Hell I will ever let that happen to me daughter. Of course I will take her. It's not even a question worth asking."

            Kathy seemed somewhat relieved. "Good, I'll go get her ready." With that she jumped up and marched out the front door, relieved to be away from Chandler scrutinizing gaze.

            Chandler waited, not getting up from the table for a good couple minutes, before he finally heard the sound of a car driving away. He got up, confused and hobbled over to the door. There was no car in the driveway, but there was a small, timid figure standing forlornly in the center of the driveway, staring at he car disappearing down the street. 

            Chandler laughed bitterly as he realized what Kathy had done. She had left Samantha alone.

            After a few moments hesitation, Chandler pushed the door open and walked slowly over to the figure. He stopped a few feet away and cleared his throat, causing the girl to jump and spin around. 

            The sight in front of him amazed Chandler. The girl's hair, although tangled and unkempt was the same shade of brown as his own. She had small, delicate features, and piercing blue eyes, which he knew also matched his. He was certain that if he had a picture of himself at that age they would look like twins.

The girl was silent, standing stock-still, staring wide-eyed up at Chandler. She was shaking slightly.

            Chandler struggled with his words for a few seconds before sighing and crouching down to her height. "Hi," he said softly.

            "Hi," the girl said, very quietly, looking down.

            "I'm Chandler," he said. "You must be Samantha."

            Samantha nodded. She looked back up at him. "Are you my daddy?" She asked.

            Chandler nodded gently and felt tears come to his eyes at her innocence. "I am your daddy." He wasn't sure what else to say.

            "Mommy said I was going to live with you now. I wanted to go with mommy but she left."

            Chandler shook his head sadly. He still couldn't believe Kathy would do such a thing. "I'm sorry, Samantha, but your mommy had to leave," he paused for a moment, trying to sort out his words. "I'm very happy that I got to meet you and I'm really excited about you living with me. I always wanted a daughter."

            "Really?" Samantha asked timidly, a spark of hope evident in her eyes.

            "Really," Chandler said smiling at her. She reminded him of himself as a child, lonely and timid, always hoping someone would love him, would want him. Chandler was determined that his daughter would never feel alone again. "Are you hungry?"

            Samantha nodded.

            "Do you want to come inside and have something to eat?"

            Again, Samantha nodded.

            Chandler smiled and stood back up. He noticed a small, well-worn duffel bag sitting on the driveway, a few feet from him. "Is that you bag?"

            Samantha nodded again.

            Chandler picked it up and offered Samantha his hand, which he was relieved she took. The two of them walked into the house together.

            Chandler dropped the bag in the front hall and led her to the kitchen. He placed a few phonebooks on a chair and helped onto it. 

            "What do you feel like eating?" He asked.

            Samantha shrugged. 

            Chandler smiled. She seemed very timid and very nervous. "If you could have anything you wanted in the whole wide world, what would it be?"

            "Scrambled eggs," Samantha said quietly. "Anna used to make them for me."

            "Who's Anna?" Chandler asked quietly.

            "Mommy's friend. I would stay there some nights when mommy was busy. She would make scrambled eggs in the morning."

            "Did you stay with her a lot?"

            Samantha nodded. "She was my favorite to go to."

            "Where else would you go?"

            "Mommy had a couple friends who would take me and sometimes I would go to my Aunt Martha's for a week, but then she and mommy got in a fight and I didn't see her again." 

            Chandler was concerned. "How often did you see your mommy?"

            Samantha shrugged. "She was busy a lot. She said I got in the way. She called be a new…newsace…new…"

            "A nuisance?" Chandler offered, smiling slightly at her inability to pronounce the word. 

            Samantha nodded. "I tried to be good, but I wasn't good enough. I couldn't make mommy love me." She began to cry.

            Chandler felt paternal instincts that he never knew he even possessed kick in. He rushed over and pulled her into a hug. He felt tears come to his eyes as he felt two tiny arms wrap around his neck. "Shhh now, Sam, it's okay." He felt his hand gently begin to rub her back. "Don't cry, sweetie, you didn't do anything wrong."

            "But, mommy didn't love me. She would leave me and I missed her."

            "She would leave you?"

            Samantha nodded in his arms. "She would go out and come back the next day. She was always mad at me."

            Chandler closed his eyes and shook his head sadly. He pulled back and put a finger under her chin, forcing her to look up at him. "You listen to me, Samantha. Your mommy was wrong, okay? She didn't realize how special you are."

            Samantha seemed to accept this and pulled back, wiping her eyes with her sleeve.

            Chandler smiled at her. "Well, lets see what we can do about those eggs."

            An hour later, they finished eating and Chandler cleared the table. He knew he was stalling, but had no idea what to do next. He had little experience with children and was never sure of himself when he was with them, he was always afraid of doing something wrong.

            He turned to see Samantha staring at him, waiting patiently for him to do or say something. He marveled at the fact that he had met her less than two hours ago and already she seemed to trust him completely. What he would give to be so innocent so untouched by the real world.

            Chandler smiled as inspiration struck. "How about we take your stuff up to your room?"

            Samantha's eyes lit up. "I get a room?"

            "Of course you do. Didn't you have one before?"

            She shook her head. "Mostly I would sleep on the couch. Mommy used to room for stuff. She said there wasn't room for me."

            Chandler chose to ignore the subject at the time and led Samantha down the hall, carrying her bag.

            "Is your leg hurt?" He heard her ask.

            Chandler turned to look at her and nodded. "I was hit be a car a few months ago and I'm still healing."

            "You got hit by a car?" She asked, her eyes wide.

            Chandler smiled at her expression. "Yeah, but don't worry. I'm almost better." He opened the door to the room beside his and led her in. It was pretty bare, a single bed, a chest of drawers and small desk decorated the room, but he could tell Samantha was in awe of it all. 

            "This is my room?" She asked, excitement evident in her voice.

            "Yup," Chandler said. "But only for now. Soon we'll go live in my house, in New York."

            "This isn't your house?"

            "Nope, this is my mom's house. I came to stay with her when I got hurt."

            "Oh. Will I have a room at your house?"

            Chandler smiled. "Of course. And we can paint it any color you want and put up wall paper and stuff."

            "Wow," was all Samantha could say.

            A week later, Chandler opened the door to Ann's office, flowers in hand.

            "Hi, Chandler," Ann said.

            "Hey, these are for you," he said, handing her the flowers.

            Ann seemed confused. "And what did I do to deserve all of this?"

            "I just really want to thank you for all you've done for me over the past few months. I really didn't want to come here at first, but I so glad I did. I feel so much happier than I thought I could be, all things considered."

            "Well, thank-you, Chandler. I'm glad I have been able to get through to you."

            "Oh, you have, and I also need to say goodbye, cause I'm moving next week."

            "Where?"

            "To that house my uncle left me."

            "Right, so why the sudden rush to move. I thought you were going to stay here for a bit?"

            "I was, but things change."

            "What kind of things?"

            Chandler smiled. "Well, last week I found out I have a daughter."

            "Really?" 

            Chandler nodded. 

            "How did you find this out?"

            "An ex-girlfriend showed up at the door. I hadn't seen her since be broke up, years ago."

            "Tell me about your daughter?"

            Chandler smiled even larger. "Her name is Samantha and she'll be five in a couple months. She's so pretty and so smart."

            "And what about her mother?"

            Chandler expression darkened. "Her name's Kathy. We weren't together long before she cheated on me and we broke up. I didn't love her or anything, but she was the first girl I saw my self ever being able to love, if that makes any sense."

            "That makes sense."

            "So, she shows up at my door, tells me I have a daughter and then tells me if I don't immediately take full custody, she's going to give her up for adoption."

            "That's terrible!"

            "I know," Chandler said, nodding. "But I guess it's for the best. I don't have to worry about visitation, or anything. Plus, she really wasn't a good mom. Samantha told me she was never around and said some really mean things to her. When I opened the bag she left, there were only a few pieces of clothing, which barely fit and that's all she had. No toys, no stuffed animals. Nothing."

            "What did you do?"

            "I took her shopping. Got her new clothes and a cute little stuffed dog. She loves it. She named it Molly. She sleeps with it every night."

            Ann smiled. "She sounds amazing. I must say, Chandler I don't think I've ever seen you this happy before. The difference between this week and last week is phenomenal."

            "I owe it all to her," Chandler said. "It's like suddenly my life has meaning again."

AN: Well? How was it? I hope it was okay. Again, sorry about the huge delay. A couple points, I know the timing is a little off. I haven't actually seen many of the season 1-4 episodes, so I don't know how long ago Chandler and Kathy broke up. Also, I know Kathy's character was out of character, but I don't know her character and I needed this for the story. Last, I was going to go into detail about the whole inheritance thing, but thought better of it. I didn't want to bore anyone. So, please let me know what you think, and I hope to update ASAP.


	5. Still

**_Chapter 5: Still_**

****

__

            Chandler silently pushed open the door to Samantha's room and treaded quietly over to the bed. He smiled at the small, sleeping form. She always looked so peaceful when she was asleep. He pulled the blanket back up, covering her shoulders and lightly kissed her forehead before backing out of the room and closing the door behind him.

            He and Samantha had been living in New York for three months now and he found he loved being a father. He had put her to bed hours ago, but tonight, like most nights, he would check on her before going to bed himself. He had had her room painted yellow, which was her favorite color, and decorated to her choice. 

            Chandler walked down the hall and collapsed onto the bed in his room. He had only had Samantha for a few short months, but already he couldn't remember, nor imagine, his life without her. He was determined he would be the best father to her that he could. He would give her the best life possible. He could already see a difference in her. She was more outgoing and she was happy. She was no longer quiet and timid. He hoped that with time she would forget her earlier fears. 

            That night Chandler fell asleep and dreamt of a life he would never have. He dreamt that the gang was still alive, that he and Monica were still together, Samantha was their daughter and they were a family. They were happy. Life was perfect. Chandler woke up crying and rolled over to stare at the small, framed picture on his nightstand. It was the one memory he had left of his friends. H sighed sadly and eventually fell back into a restless sleep.

                        *                      *                      *                      *                      *

            Two months later, Samantha celebrated her fifth birthday. Chandler had a party for her and a few friends she had made at pre-school. He watched as she played with her friends and opened her presents, watched her make a wish and blow out her candles. 

            Chandler heard a knock at the door and got up to answer it. He recognized one of Samantha's friends mom. 

            "Hello," Chandler said. "You're Vanessa's mom, right?"

            She nodded. "I'm Shirley."

            "Chandler," he said, holding out his hand.

            She shook hands and he motioned for her to come in.

            "I know I'm a bit early, but I wanted to talk to you," she said. "Vanessa and Samantha have become very close and Vanessa would like to invite Samantha up to our cottage next weekend. Would that be alright with you?"

            "I don't see a problem," Chandler said, smiling. "I want her to make friends and go and do stuff with them. It'll be good for her."

            Shirley nodded. "It's hard on a child when they have to move. Did she have to leave friends when you moved?"

            Chandler shook his head. "She only lived there for a few weeks."

            "Oh."

            Chandler sighed, knowing he would have to tell the story. "I didn't know about her until about six months ago. Her mom showed up out of the blue and gave me full custody. I was already preparing to move here, so she came with. We started over together."

            "Started over?" Shirley asked. 

            Chandler sighed. "I was hit by a car and after being in the hospital for three months I had to go live with my mom. They had to replace me at work and my apartment…well, I couldn't go back there."

            Shirley shook her head. "That's terrible!" She paused for a moment. "If you don't mind me asking, what happened to Samantha's mom?"

            Chandler sighed, sadly. "She decided to get married, and didn't want Samantha to be a part of her new family. She threatened to give her up for adoption."

            Shirley looked shocked. "That's awful. How could she do that?"

            Chandler shook his head. "That's what I said." He glanced over at Samantha, who was happily playing with her friends. "I don't see how anyone couldn't love her."

            Shirley offered him a small smile. "Were you and her mother close?"

            Chandler shook his head. "Not really. We went out for a bit, a few years ago, until she cheated on me and took off. I didn't see her again until she showed up with Sam."

            "So you two aren't involved?" She asked. Chandler shook his head. "Are you seeing anyone?"

            Again, Chandler shook his head.

            "Well," Shirley said, smiling, "I have this friend…"

            Chandler cut her off by raising a hand, motioning for her to stop. "Thanks, but I'm really not ready to start a relationship."

            "Why not?" Shirley asked, pushing. "You've been here for a couple months. Both you and Samantha are settled. I don't think it would be a problem."

            Chandler smiled sadly. "I know it doesn't look like a problem, but that's not it. Emotionally, I'm not ready."

            "Oh," Shirley asked, immediately backing off. "I'm sorry. I pushed too far, I do that sometimes. I'm sorry," she repeated. 

            Chandler offered a smile. "Don't worry about it."

            Shirley stayed silent, but Chandler could tell she was struggling with whether or not to ask why. He decided to save her the stress.

            "I was part of a pretty close group of friends. My girlfriend, who I was living with, her brother and two best friends, and my old roommate. We all lived really close and hung out all the time. We could completely trust each other. I never realized how much I needed them, especially Monica. We were together for a year and a half and I was happy, you know? For the first time in my life I saw myself having a future with someone…" Chandler trailed off, taking a moment to regain control over his emotions. Shirley stayed silent, giving him time. "I was working late one day. There was afire at out building. They didn't make it."

            Shirley paled slightly. "Oh, Chandler. I'm so sorry. That must have been so awful for you."

            Chandler nodded. "Oh, it was."

            "I'm so sorry," Shirley repeated. 

            Chandler shrugged and sighed. He still missed them so much.

                        *                      *                      *                      *                      *  

            A month later, Chandler found himself somewhere he really didn't want to be. He was leading Samantha down the sidewalk in downtown New York where he used to live. He had told Samantha about his old life and now, on the day of the anniversary of the fire, here he was, showing her.

            He stopped her and stared up at the obviously new building sitting in the same spot as the old one, the same place he had been happy and loved…and lost.

            "Daddy's old home was right here," Chandler told Samantha, who was staring up at him.

            "The one that burned down?" Samantha asked.

            Chandler nodded, smiling at her grammar. "That's the one." He continued down the street to the small, friendly coffeehouse he had spent so much of his previous life in. He paused before opening the door, trying to work up the courage to walk in. He felt Samantha squeeze his hand. He knew she didn't understand, but was grateful she had wanted to come with him. Chandler took a deep breath and opened the door. This was something he had to do. 

            He led Samantha over to the all-to-familiar orange couch, which he thanked God was empty. He was somewhat disappointed he didn't see Gunther there. A waitress came over and he ordered a coffee and chocolate milk for Samantha. They were silent before Samantha broke the silence. 

            "I like it here," she said. "It's nice."

            Chandler smiled at her. "I like it, too," he said. "Daddy and his old friends used to come here all of the time."

            Samantha looked up at him. "I'm sorry you miss your friends, Daddy," she said.

            Chandler felt tears come to his eyes and he fought to blink them back. Samantha didn't understand what he was going through, but she knew he was hurting and she was trying to help. Just the knowledge that he was trying to help was enough to make Chandler feel better. He wasn't alone anymore.

            Two chocolate milks later, Samantha announced she had to go to the bathroom. Chandler pointed her in the right direction and waited until she was out of sight before turning back and burying his face in his hands. He took a deep breath and nodded his head, as if telling himself he was okay. He sighed and decided to go to the bathroom himself. He stood up, pivoting as he did so around the corner of the couch. As he stood fully up, he came face to face with…

            "Monica?" He asked in shock.

**_AN: Well? Surprised? You didn't really think I would kill Monica, did you? Anyway, please let me know what you think. _**    


	6. Great Minds

**_Chapter 6: Great Minds Think Alike _**

****

"Monica?" Chandler asked, in shock.

            "Ch-chandler?" Monica whispered, her eyes frantically searching Chandler's face, as if assuring herself that it was really him.

            Chandler opened and closed his mouth a few times, but no words formed. . Finally, he simply stepped forward and wrapped his arms tightly around her small frame. Monica didn't hesitate before doing the same. Chandler didn't know how long they stood there, holding each other, but he didn't care; he only concentrated on the feeling of having her in his arms once more.

            Eventually he pulled back, staring into Monica's teary eyes, which matched his own. He lifted his hand to her face and gently cupped her cheek with his hand before leaning in and placing a kiss on her lips. It was short, but full of emotion. Chandler planted a second kiss on her forehead and pulled her close again.

            "I thought you were dead," he whispered into her hair.

            Monica pulled back, staring right into his eyes. "I thought _you_ were dead."

            Chandler almost laughed at the irony as he reached forward to gently brush a stray strand of hair off her face. She smiled at him. Chandler felt his heart jump slightly as he lost himself in her eyes.

            Chandler was pulled from his trance at a noise behind him. He turned to see his daughter standing there, quietly. 

            "Daddy?" Samantha asked, unsure.

            Chandler felt Monica tense slightly and her squeezed her hand assuringly as he gave her a look that said he would explain later. He turned to Samantha.

            "Sammy, do you remember when I told you about my friends? And showed you the picture?"

            Samantha nodded, her eyes still on the figure of the pretty girl her dad had been hugging.

            "Well, this is one of daddy's best friends."

            "The pretty one," Samantha whispered.

            "Pardon?" Chandler asked.

            "She's the pretty one from the picture," Samantha repeated, louder.

            Chandler smiled, glad she remembered. "Why don't you introduce yourself?"

            Chandler watched Samantha step forward, holding her small hand out to Monica.

            "I'm Sam," she said quietly.

`           Monica crouched down and shook the hand. "I'm Monica. It's very nice to meet you."

            Samantha smiled. "It's nice to meet you, too. I'm glad we found you, cause Daddy really missed you. He told me," Samantha said proudly.

            Monica smiled, sadly, not sure of what to say. 

            Chandler cleared his throat. "Why don't we sit down?"

            The three sat down and, again, there was silence. Neither Chandler nor Monica knew what to say to the other and didn't want to say anything in front of Samantha. The silence was cut short.

            "Monica Geller!" Phoebe's voice filtered through the silence. "How long does it take you to get a cup of coffee? I was…Chandler?! Oh My God!" She rushed over and threw her arms around Chandler's neck. Chandler smiled and hugged her tightly.

            "Hey, Pheebs. I can't believe you're here, too."

            Phoebe pulled back, "Well, I live here."

            Chandler shook his head. "No, I mean I can't believe you're alive, too."

            "You're the one we thought was dead."

            "You mean everyone else is alive, too?"

            Phoebe nodded. She seemed to realize something and pulled back even further. She gently hit Chandler on the shoulder. "Chandler Bing! Where the hell have you been? We thought you were dead."

            "It seems to have been a very common thought."

            Phoebe looked about to say something else when she spotted Samantha. "And who is this?"

            "This is my daughter, Samantha," he said. He turned to Samantha. "Sweetie, this is another of daddy's old friends. Her name is Phoebe. Do you remember her from the picture?"

            Samantha nodded. "Hi," she said shyly. The woman in front of her was a little scary, and she had said the H word!

            Phoebe's expression immediately softened. "Hi, Samantha. It's nice to meet you."

            Samantha smiled back, "You, too," she said quietly as she hid her face against her father's arm.

            Phoebe turned to Monica. "I understand now why you were taking so long."   

            Monica nodded. She was glad Phoebe was here. She felt more comfortable, as she had no idea what to do or say to Chandler. Where had he been for the past year? And why did he have a daughter? Did he have a new life? Had he moved on? She certainly hadn't.

            "Well, I guess our plans for tonight are off," Phoebe said.

            "What were they?" Chandler asked.

            "Hanging out in Monica's apartment, crying over the fact that you died a year ago today. It's kinda hard to do that when you're obviously not dead."

            Chandler nodded. "I guess it is."

            "You wanna come over?" Phoebe asked. "See the gang again?"

            "I'd love to," Chandler said, glancing at Monica, as if for permission. Monica smiled at him and he took it as a yes. He was worried that she would have a problem with him and Sam. He sighed inwardly. He wished he had known sooner that she was alive. He would have been here in a heartbeat. But now she had probably moved on. She didn't need him anymore. He sighed. He still needed her so much. 

            Chandler smiled and nodded. He turned back to his daughter. "Sam, do you want to go meet some people?"

            Samantha nodded and the four of them exited the coffee house and walked the three blocks to Monica's new apartment.

            "It's nice," Chandler said, as he entered the apartment. It was a little smaller than the old one, and not nearly as nice. The rooms were all partially closed off and the ceiling seemed lower. 

            Monica shrugged. "It's okay. I wish I still lived in the old one…" She trailed off, realizing what her words meant.

            Chandler offered a small smile and nodded slightly. "I know," he whispered. He cleared his throat. "So, do you have a roommate?"

            Monica shook her head. "No. Joey lived here, but he moved out, cause he's in LA filming a movie."

            "Good for him. Where did Rachel go?"

            "She moved in with me." Phoebe said.

            Chandler nodded. "So," he started. There was so much he wanted to say, so much he wanted to ask. He glanced over at Monica. He wanted so badly to hug her again, to kiss her, to be with her. He wanted to say what he hadn't said a year before, but he was afraid to. It had been a year, and a lot changes in a year. He was afraid she would tell him she'd moved on, she'd tell him she'd found someone who made her happy. Before he could continue, however, the door opened and a shocked Ross and Rachel stood in the doorway. There were hugs and demands as to where he had been. They were also shocked to find he had a daughter. Chandler was hesitant to say much with Samantha present, so they set her up in front of the television and the five adults sat down around the small kitchen table. All eyes were on Chandler.

            "I really don't know what to say, guys. I'm as shocked as you are."

            "Where have you been?" Ross asked.

            "I've been back in New York for about six months. I have a house in the suburbs. I was living with my mom before that."

            "Why?"

            Chandler sighed, knowing he had to start from the beginning. "Let me start from the beginning. I had to work late, as you probably know," he glanced at Monica and noticed her expression sadden. "I left work as soon as I could, and when I got home, the building was…well, it was gone. There was nothing left of it. They told me know one above the second floor got out." He trailed off for a few seconds. "I couldn't handle staying there, so I ran. I don't know how far I got. I really wasn't paying attention. Suddenly I realized that I was no longer moving, that I was lying on the ground." Chandler almost laughed at the confused look on everyone's face. "I got hit by a car." There was a collective gasp.

            "And you didn't even notice?" Rachel asked, incredulously.

            Chandler rolled his eyes. "Thanks for asking me if I was okay first," he said, sarcastically.

            "Well, obviously you were, cause you're here now." Rachel said, trying to make up for her earlier comment.

            "Yeah, but I was pretty close to not being here."

            "What!"

            Chandler shrugged. "I was in a coma for two months. Apparently they had to shock me a few times to get my heart beating properly." Chandler shrugged, indifferently. 

            "That's horrible, Chandler. I'm so sorry." Ross said.

            Chandler continued. "I had no ID, so they didn't know who I was, and I didn't match any missing person reports, so I was a John Doe for two months, till I woke up."

            There was silence for a few seconds. "We never reported you missing," Monica finally whispered. All eyes turned to her. She was staring straight at Chandler. "We thought you had been in the fire. It never occurred to us that something else had happened to you…" She trailed off.

            There was silence for a few moments

            "And what about Samantha," Ross said, changing the subject.

            Chandler smiled and glanced over at his daughter, who was happily focused on her cartoons. "I'd rather tell you later, if you know what I mean?" He motioned towards Samantha.

            Everyone nodded, understandingly.

            "So, what about you guys?"

            "Well, we were lucky, I guess," Phoebe said. "We left early to get to the restaurant in time. I guess you didn't realize we would already have left."

            "What restaurant?" Chandler asked.

            "Tony's," Ross said. "We decided to go out for Rachel's birthday. We called and left a message for you at your office."

            "We waited for hours, and you never showed up," Rachel said gently. "We thought you weren't coming. Eventually we left and found out about the fire. We were hopeful you hadn't been in there, but after you didn't surface in a few days, it became apparent that you were." Rachel smiled slightly. "I guess we were wrong."

            "I never got the message," Chandler said, finally. "They never told me you called."

            "We called your office afterwards. They told us you had left at a quarter to six. You would have been home by six and the fire stared just after six."

            Chandler sighed, everything making sense. "I stopped to get flowers on the way home. The first place didn't have anything, so I had to go a little out of my way. If I hadn't stopped, I would have been there…" He trailed off.

             "Who were the flowers for?" Ross asked.

            Chandler hesitated. "They were for Monica," he said. He averted all eyes. "We had a…a fight that morning."

            There was silence as the news sunk in.

            Ross laughed slightly. "The fight that saved your life," he said, trying to break the tension. "It's a little ironic."

            "Yeah, I guess," Chandler said, now staring at Monica, who was averting his gave, her eyes downcast.

            Everyone noticed the tension in the room. Ross, Rachel and Phoebe knew about the fight. Monica had carried guilt about it for the whole year. She just couldn't accept that it had been the last interaction she had ever had with Chandler.

            Chandler was the first to break the silence. He noticed that Samantha had fallen asleep on the couch. He glanced at the small clock on the stove and sighed. "I'd really love to stay and talk," he said truthfully. "But I really need to get her home."

            Ross nodded. "I should go, too. I have an early morning lecture tomorrow." He turned to Phoebe and Rachel. "You guys want me to walk you home?"

            Phoebe nodded "Sure."

            Phoebe and Rachel each gave Chandler a long hug and said goodbye.

            Ross kissed his sisters cheek and gave Chandler a quick hug. "It's good to see you again, man."

            "You, too, Ross."

            Ross, Rachel and Phoebe made there way out the door, leaving Monica and Chandler alone.

            Chandler cleared his throat. He stepped towards Monica. Their eyes met, but neither of them seemed to know what to say.

            "Uh, about that day," Chandler started. "I-I'm sorry. I…"

            "I know," Monica said. She offered a small smile. "I know," she repeated. They shared a look of understanding, bith finally feeling forgiven for that fateful morning.

            After a pause, Chandler stepped forward and pulled Monica into a long hug. They stood there for some time, just holding each other. Eventually they pulled away, before leaning in for a light, but passionate kiss, both losing themselves momentarily. Chandler finally pulled away and planted a kiss on her forehead. He then leaned his forehead against hers and closed his eyes. "I have to go," he whispered. "I have to get Sam home. It's late."

            Monica nodded. "I know," she said. Neither of them made any move to back away.

            Monica finally spoke up. "Why don't you stay here tonight?" She asked. "You and Samantha can have the spare room."

            Chandler seemed to think for a moment. "Okay," he finally said. "Let me just put her to bed." He gently squeezed Monica's hand before backing away.

            Monica watched in awe as Chandler gently lifted his sleeping daughter off of the couch and carried her into the spare room. Monica smiled to herself. She had always known he would be a good father. 

            Chandler soon stepped back out of the room and quietly shut the door behind him.

            Monica motioned for him to sit back down at the table.

            "I guess you want to know about Sam," Chandler said.

            "Only if you want to tell me."

            Chandler smiled and began. "She's Kathy's. Kathy showed up at my mom's with her. She was getting married and didn't want her anymore. I didn't even know about her until then."

            "She didn't want her?" Monica whispered sadly. She couldn't believe that. She had wanted children her entire life. How could anyone not want them?

            Chandler shook his head. "I can't understand how anyone could do something like that. It's so wrong."

            Monica nodded in agreement. "She's such a sweet little girl."

            Chandler smiled. "I know. I love her so much. At first I had no idea what to do or say to her," he laughed slightly in remembrance. "But now I can't imagine my life without her. She saved me."

            "Saved you?" Monica asked.

            "She gave me a reason to live, a reason to want to live." Chandler whispered, truthfully. "I was in a really bad place. I wasn't, like, suicidal or anything, I was just really depressed. I mean I lost everything. My friends, my family," he paused, "you."

            Monica looked up, sadness in her eyes. "I missed you, Chandler. I missed you so much."

            Chandler smiled slightly and moved around the table to sit beside her. "I missed you, too," he said before pulling her into a hug. "I still love you," he said, his voice almost too quiet to hear.

            Monica jumped slightly, surprised. She pulled back and looked right into his eyes. "I still love you, too," she said. She paused. "Uh, are you…seeing anyone?" She mentally crossed her fingers. 

            Chandler smiled and shook his head. "No, you?"

            Monica shook her head. "No, I haven't seen anyone since you. I couldn't."

            "I know the feeling," Chandler said. He seemed to realize something. "Monica, I would love to be with you, but I…I will understand if you don't want to get back together."

            Monica seemed surprised. "Why wouldn't I want to be with you?"

            "Samantha," Chandler said.

            Monica shrugged. "Still not seeing your point."

            Chandler sighed. "My life is different now. I have a daughter, and responsibilities. I know that you want to have a family one-day and I don't want to take that away from you. I don't want you to have a dysfunctional family, but there is no way I'm giving up Sam." 

            Monica smiled at Chandler. "I would never ask you to give up your daughter, Chandler. And I don't care what kind of family I have, as long as you're a part of it."

            "Are you sure?"

            Monica nodded. "If the fire had never happened, we would have been together when Kathy showed up. I would have welcomed Samantha then, and I'd love to welcome her now. I love you, Chandler. I never stopped. I spent the last year thinking I had lost you for good and wondering what I was going to do with my life, and now I see myself with a future again. I'm not letting anything get in the way of that."

            Chandler nodded. "I did exactly the same thing, only for the past ten months, not twelve," he said jokingly, then at Monica's confused look. "Because I was unconscious for the first two."

            "Right," Monica said, realization dawning on her. "Are you okay? I mean are there any long term damages?" She asked, reaching her hand up to run her fingers lightly through his hair.

            Chandler smiled at her. "My motor skills were really messed up for a while, but they're okay now. The only real damage was in my left leg. It took most of the impact and was pretty messed up. They put a bunch of pins and plates and stuff in it. I was stuck in a wheelchair for a while, and then crutches and a cane. I can walk now, but it still hurts a lot."

            "Wow!" Monica said. "I'm so sorry."

            "Don't worry about it. I'm happy now that I can walk."

            Monica glanced at her watch. It was getting really late. "Do you have to work tomorrow?" She asked.

            Chandler shook his head. "No, I took this week off."

            Monica laughed. "Me too. I guess great minds think alike."

            "As do not so great minds," Chandler said jokingly.

            Monica smiled and hit him lightly.

            He managed to block her by grabbing her arm in mid-swing. She tried with the other arm ,but he caught that one, too.

            "Hey!" Monica squealed, as he pulled her closer.

            Suddenly, they made eye contact and he dropped her arms. Neither said anything as they silently leaned in. their lips met for the third time that day as they lost themselves in each other.

            The kiss deepened and both pairs of arms wrapped around the other. It wasn't long before Chandler felt Monica's hands tentatively reaching out for the hem of his shirt. He reached down and gently stopped her hands by grabbing each of them and lifting them up, planting a kiss on both, as well as her forehead. He looked into her confused eyes, which were failing to hide he hurt she obviously felt.

            "I can't," Chandler whispered. "I want to, but I can't." He motioned towards the guestroom where his daughter was asleep. Realization dawned on her face.

            "Oh, I'm so sorry. I wasn't thinking." She blushed and went to turn away.

            Chandler stopped her and smiled. He brushed a strand of hair out of her face. "Don't be sorry, Mon. I want this too, we just…"

            "Can't," Monica supplied.

            Chandler smiled and nodded. "I'm sorry."

            Monica smiled and tilted her head slightly. She reached for his hand. "I'll take a rain check," she whispered, jokingly.

            Chandler laughed. "I can live with that." He leaned in and gave Monica a kiss on the cheek before turning away and walking into the guestroom.

            He made sure Samantha was covered up and asleep before collapsing onto the other single bed. He was smiling as he fell asleep.

**_AN: And that's chapter six. How was it? I hope you liked it. I'll try to get the next chapter up ASAP, and I'm working on the next chapter of TO on the Streets. It'll be hard, cause I have exams coming up, but I'll do my best. Please let me know what you think._**   


	7. Scars

Chapter 7: Scars 

AN: Hey all! Sorry about the delay...again. I've really got to start getting better at updating. But I'm done my exams now, YAY! Now I'll have more time and a whole lot less stress. Anyway, be aware that the first quarter, or so, of this chapter is not exactly my best work. I had major writers block as to what to write. I had a place I needed to get to and this was the best way I could get there. So, please forgive me. Anyway, read on and I hope you enjoy. 

            Monica awoke early in the morning and was unable to fall back to sleep. Excitement and anxiety coursed through her. She sighed and decided to get up. She still couldn't believe Chandler was alive. It was like a dream come true, but was it too much like a dream? She wondered if everything, or anything for that matter, would work out. Could she and Chandler make it work after everything that had happened? Could the three of them ever be a family? Monica wondered briefly what life would have been like if the fire had never happened and Kathy had shown up at their door with Samantha.

            Monica quickly got to work in the kitchen, making breakfast. She was humming quietly to herself and was startled by movement behind her. Monica jumped and spun around, her eyes coming to rest on the small girl standing in front of her.

            "Oh, Samantha. You scared me!" Monica said, clutching her chest.

            "I'm sorry," Samantha said timidly, her eyes downcast.

            "Don't worry about it," Monica said immediately, giving Samantha a big smile. She could now see what Chandler had told her yesterday about her self-confidence. "Do you wanna have some breakfast?"

            Samantha nodded shyly and smiled.

            Monica returned the smile and tilted her head slightly. "Do you want to help me?"

            Samantha's eyes widened and she nodded emphatically at the thought of being asked to help. 

            Chandler awoke a short time later and quietly made his way out of the guestroom. He smiled when he spotted Monica and Samantha hard at work in the kitchen. Samantha was standing on a stool in front of the stove, a spatula in hand. She was wearing an apron that was far too big for her and was tied around her a couple times. Monica was standing beside her, patiently showing her how to flip pancakes. 

            "Something smells good," Chandler said brightly as he entered the small kitchen.

            "Daddy!" Samantha exclaimed. "We're making pancakes!"

            Chandler smiled at her enthusiasm. "Oh, pancakes, that sounds good."

            Samantha nodded emphatically. They have choc'lat chips!" Samantha suddenly turned back to the stove, getting back to work.

            Chandler smiled ands hook his head. Samantha was covered with a light layer of flour and had batter on her left cheek. He stepped forward and stopped right behind them. He leaned in and planted a kiss on the back of Samantha's head and one on Monica's cheek. 

            "Morning," he said.

            Monica offered a smile. "Good morning." She said. "Breakfast is almost ready."

            "Want me to do something?"

            "You could set the table, the plates are up there," Monica said, motioning towards a cupboard.

            "Kay," Chandler reached up and got down the plates as well as knives and forks from the drawer. He quickly set the table and placed three glasses of orange juice down on the table, right as Monica set a plate of pancakes down and put a couple on everyone's plates. 

            Monica and Chandler ate in silence, listening to Samantha chatter happily about making pancakes and how much she had liked 'sleeping over' at Monica's home. Chandler smiled as he watched his daughter. She was very rarely this animated, especially with other people around. He was surprised, but glad, that she had bonded with Monica. It usually took time with new people.    

            When they had finished breakfast, Chandler announced that he and Samantha had to go. He sent Samantha to get ready, momentarily leaving Monica and himself alone. 

            "So," Monica began.

            "So," Chandler said, laughing. "This shouldn't be awkward."

            Monica sighed and smiled. "I know."

            "I'll call you," Chandler said, holding up the hand holding the small piece of paper Monica had written her number down on. He paused for a moment. "I-I'm really glad that this happened. I'm glad we found each other again. I really missed you…" He was about to continue, but Monica cut him off.

            "I know," she said simply. "I know," she repeated, smiling. She looked down, a few strands of hair falling into her face.

            Chandler stepped forward and gently brushed the hair back behind her ear. She looked up and their eyes met. A look of understanding passed between them and they exchanged a quick kiss before pulling apart. 

            Samantha chose that moment to re-enter the room. 

            "You ready to go, Sam?" Chandler asked.

            Samantha nodded. She walked over to Monica. "Thank-you for the sleepover," she said, smiling.

            Monica laughed. "You're welcome, Samantha. I hope I'll see you again soon."

            Samantha nodded. "Me too," she turned to Chandler. "Are we going now?"

            Chandler nodded. "Yup." He turned to Monica and gave her a quick hug, both of them wishing he didn't have to leave.

                        *                      *                      *                      *                      *          

            The next Tuesday, Chandler found himself with the day off, so he dropped Samantha at school and decided to take a short trip to the city. He had seen Monica once since the first time, but the whole gang had been present, including Joey, who had been ecstatic about his friend's sudden reappearance and hadn't allowed Chandler a moment alone with Monica. 

             Chandler smiled to himself as he approached Monica's building and parked the car. She didn't know he was coming and he hoped to surprise her. He was pretty sure she had Tuesdays off of work. He got himself into the building and climbed the two flights of stairs. He rounded the final corner in the hallway and knocked three times on her door.

            Monica looked up from her dusting at the sound of a knock on her door. Probably the old lady below her saying she was being too loud again. Monica could swear she only came up to talk, as she would complain about times Monica wasn't even home. Monica sighed as she glanced around the small, uncomfortable apartment. She hated living here and missed her old, inviting apartment. She shook her head to clear her thoughts and went over to answer the door. 

            "Hey," Chandler said, as the door swung open in front of him. 

            "Chandler!" Monica exclaimed. She stepped forward and the two shared a hug. "What are you doing here?"

            Chandler shrugged, as he walked in and shut the door. "My boss called this morning to tell me not to bother coming in today. There's some big computer problem or something."

            "Well, that's great," Monica said. "Well, not for your office, but for us."

            Chandler smiled. "I know. My immediate thought was: I get to go see Mon."

            Monica smiled at him and averted his eyes, somewhat embarrassed. "Well, thanks for thinking of me. You saved me from a long, boring day alone." She motioned to the apartment around her. "As you can see, there isn't much to do here."

            Chandler shrugged. "It's really not as nice as the last one is it?"

            Monica rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Not even close. I hate living here."

            "Why didn't you move back when the old building was re-built?"

            "The same reason you didn't."

            "Because you were severely injured from running in front of a car?" Chandler quipped.

Monica sighed and shook her head, laughing. "No," now more serious, "because I couldn't. And you couldn't either. It took you a year to come back."

Chandler nodded. "I know. It was really hard."

There was a somber moment. 

"So," Chandler said. "I'm yours for the day. What do you want to do?"

Monica thought for a moment. "Why don't we hang out here and watch a movie?"

"Sounds good," Chandler said, nodding. "Oh, and before I forget, Sam's going to her friend Vanessa's cottage this weekend, and I was wondering if you wanted to come down for the weekend?" Monica had yet to see the house, beacsue they didn't want to confuse Samantha. 

Monica smiled. "I'd love to."

"Great," Chandler said smiling. 

They popped a tape into the VCR and settled down to watch the movie. Chandler was half sitting-half lying on the couch and Monica was wrapped in his arms in front of him. 

            *                      *                      *                      *                      *

Monica paced nervously Friday evening. She had already packed her bag and was waiting for Chandler to pick her up. She didn't know why she was nervous. _This is stupid,_ she told herself, while stopping the pacing. She shouldn't be nervous about seeing Chandler. Monica sighed. It must be the build up of anticipation over the week. She could barely get through her shift earlier, knowing she had the weekend to be with Chandler. She sighed once more and began pacing again. It was more than anticipation. They had yet to be intimate, and this was their first chance at a night alone. She shivered slightly at the thought. She used to be so comfortable with him, doing anything, but now, everything was different. He was mature now, had responsibilities. She worried he would decide she was too immature for him. Monica's demeanor saddened as the thought traveled through her head, but before it could lead to more anxiety, there was a knock at the door. 

"How many times do I have to tell you that you don't have to knock?"

Chandler laughed as Monica opened the door in front of him. He shrugged. 

"You never used to knock."

He tilted his head. "Well, you usually don't knock when you live together."

Monica laughed slightly. "I meant before that."

Chandler shrugged. "That was different."

Monica's expression changed. "I know," she whispered. 

Chandler stepped forward and pulled her into a tight hug, his arms wrapping closely around her waist. He felt Monica rest her head against his shoulder and wrap her arms around his neck. They stayed like this for several moments. 

"This shouldn't be so awkward," Chandler whispered, still in the hug. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to be momentarily comforted by the feeling of having her in his arms. He knew what tonight meant for them. He was so afraid Monica would change her mind afterwards. He was different now. He was tied down and…well, he was different physically. He was scared in places. He had shown her his leg, and she had obviously sent he small scar on his cheek, but she had yet to see the long, gray scar across his chest from hitting the windshield and the gash on his side from, well he still wasn't sure how he had gotten that one. Maybe something had been there when he hit the ground. Chandler forced his thoughts back to the present. 

Monica nodded against Chandler's chest, agreeing with his statement. "I'm just a little nervous," she said, very quietly.

Chandler laughed slightly. "Me too."

Monica pulled back, also laughing slightly. "We shouldn't be."

"I know."

"But we still are."

"I know."

"You have to stop saying that," Monica said, feigning annoyance.

"I know," Chandler said with a straight face, and then cracked up. They both laughed. It helped to ease some tension. "What are you nervous about?" He asked softly, leading Monica over to the couch, where they sat down.

Monica shook her head, "Oh, no, it's nothing."

Chandlers smiled and gently brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes. "Tell me," he pleaded very softly.

Monica looked away. "I-I don't really want to."

Chandler smiled and used a finger to carefully make her look into his eyes once more. "Please."

Monica felt her resolve dissipate. She could never say no to those eyes. "I'm just worried that your not going to want me anymore." She said, quietly.

"What?!"

Monica looked down. "Everything is different now. You're different. You so mature and, well, older now. And not older and in age older, but in life experience older. And I'm not. It can never be the same as it was. Do you still want that? Do you still want me?" She asked boldly, looking back up.

Chandler almost laughed. Here he was worrying about her not wanting him. "I'll always want you, Mon. Always. You are the person I was meant to spend the rest of my life with, and I love you. I've been worrying about whether or not you would still want me."

Monica said nothing, but he could read the question in her eyes. 

"I've changed. I've _been_ changed. I'm not the same person I was. I have…scars. And I don't just mean emotional ones." He stopped as he saw the realization on Monica's face.

She began shaking her head. "Chandler that would never be a factor between us. Never." She smiled, attempting to reassure him. 

"We've both been pretty stupid, haven't we?" Chandler asked, a smile playing on his face.

Monica nodded and laughed.

"Promise me something."

"What?"

"That is you ever have any doubts or thoughts or anything, that you will tell me?"

"Only if you do the same."

"Okay, I promise."

"I promise too."

Chandler smiled, all of his previous doubts subsiding. He leaned in and placed a kiss on Monica's lips. "I love you," he whispered when they pulled away.

"I love you, too."

"You ready to go?"

Monica nodded, happily. She really was ready.

            *                      *                      *                      *                      *

Just under an hour later, Monica found herself being driven through a very happy looking residential area. All of the houses they passed were big and tidy. "This is a really nice area," she commented. 

Chandler nodded in agreement. "I know. It's a really friendly place. I think it'll be good for Sam to grow up here."

Monica nodded. She felt Chandler brake and she looked around, knowing they must be close. 

They turned into a fairly long driveway and followed it up to the garage on the right side of the large, brick house. 

Monica gasped slightly. The house was like her dream house. It was huge, with multiple large, bright windows. She could tell it was two complete floors.

"This is it," Chandler said, as he put the car in park. They both got out and he took Monica's bag as they walked together to the front door, locate at the middle of the front on the house. 

As they entered the house, Monica saw a large, spiral staircase leading both up a floor and down to her right. 

"I'll give you a quick tour," Chandler said. He showed her the large, airy living room to the right of the front hall, beside the staircase, the dining room behind the living room and the kitchen to the left of it. Directly to the left of the hallway was a laundry room, bathroom and office. There were five bedrooms upstairs and two bathrooms. In the basement was a large open rec-room and an additional two bedrooms, bathroom and mini-kitchen. There was a large pool in the backyard surrounded by an untended garden.

"This place in incredible," Monica said when the tour was over."

Chandler nodded. "It's a really nice place. I just wish I'd had more time to work here. I haven't done anything with the basement or the backyard, not that I really know how to garden, or anything."

Monica laughed. "Maybe I could help you with that."

Chandler smiled and took her hand. "That would be most generous."

Monica laughed again. She hadn't realized how much she missed this type of interaction with Chandler. "So," she said. "What's for dinner?"

Chandler smiled. "Why, my specialty." He disappeared into the kitchen more a moment before returning with a cordless phone. "Ordering pizza?"

Monica laughed. "That's you specialty?"

Chandler nodded. "It's a wonder Samantha hasn't gotten scurvy yet."

Monica rolled her eyes. 

"So what kind to you want to get?"

"Mushrooms, pepperoni and double cheese?"

Chandler nodded. "Sounds good. Wanna make it a Joey special?"

Monica laughed and nodded. "Sure." 

A couple hours, a little bit of alcohol and a lot of pizza later, Monica found herself curled up on the couch with Chandler, laughing at the show playing on the television. The show ended and she glanced at the clock on the VCR. She was surprised to notice how late it was. Chandler seemed to notice the time as well. 

"You ready for bed?" He asked.

Monica nodded, feeling her body tingle with anticipation. She felt Chandler kiss the back of her head and helped her get up. She yawned and stretched her stiff limbs. Chandler did the same beside her. He then turned off the TV and silently led her up the stairs to his bedroom. 

Monica felt butterflies in her stomach as she was led into his room, and sat on the edge of the bed. This was a different nervousness, more anticipation than anything else. It had been a long time; for both of them. 

Chandler sat down beside her and gently pulled her in for a kiss. It slowly deepened, as their arms became intertwined around each other. 

Monica was in heaven, as all of the feelings rushed back to her. She loved being intimate with Chandler. He was always so gentle and so considerate of her. He made her feel special, like no one had before. Her mind was brought back to the present when Chandler pulled away. 

"Are you sure?" He asked softly, love and caring so evident in his expression.

Monica nodded. "I've never been more sure if anything," she answered and they both knew she didn't just mean about their present 'activities.'

Chandler smiled and pulled her close again. It wasn't long before he felt her hands cautiously beginning to pull at the hem of his shirt and he helped by pulling it up, and over his head. He felt Monica plant tiny kisses all the way down his chest, and stop at the scar. She looked up at him, right into his eyes and smiled. She planted a kiss right on it and came back up to his lips. Chandler allowed himself a smiled. He knew at that moment that they would be okay.

AN: So, What did you think? I'd love some feedback. Should I continue with more chapters or call this the end and write an epilogue? I really need your input and I'll do which ever you think is best.  So, please let me know. Are you still liking this story, or are all of the long delays on updating kind of making you uninterested? 


	8. Monica's Memory

Chapter 8: Monica's Memory        

****

AN: Well, I was going to make the last chapter the end and write an epilogue, but I wanted to add this part as well. It's kind of the second part of the previous chapter. I think I'll have an epilogue up soon.

            Monica sighed as she sat at the table at Tony's, doing her best to keep a happy face for Phoebe's sake. It was her birthday after all. She glanced over at the door to the restaurant for the millionth time, hoping to see Chandler walking in the door. They had for an hour before ordering, but Chandler had never shown up. Monica knew they had all given up hope that Chandler would show up, but she still had a little left. Their fight that morning hadn't been that big a deal. He shouldn't still be too upset to come to dinner, should he? Even for Phoebe's birthday? Monica shook her head, sadly. She was becoming slightly annoyed that he hadn't shown up. Even if he was mad at her, he should have come for his friend's birthday. She was also annoyed that he wasn't answering his cell. He had turned it off, probably so he wouldn't have to talk to her. She sighed once more before forcing herself to focus on the conversation. 

_            Phoebe glanced over at Monica. Monica had briefly discussed her and Chandler's fight earlier, but it hadn't sounded that bad. She couldn't understand why Chandler hadn't shown up. _

_            "Why don't we go out to a bar for a bit?" Phoebe heard Ross ask. Everyone seemed to agree._

_            "Wait, what about Chandler?" Joey asked. "What if he shows up?"_

_            "Jo, it's been three hours. I don't think he's coming," Ross said. _

_            Phoebe noticed Monica's expression sadden. She knew Monica had been keeping up a brave front all evening. On the way out the door, Phoebe caught Monica's arm. "Mon, why don't you head home and talk to Chandler?"_

_            Monica looked at Phoebe in surprise. She hadn't realized Phoebe could tell she was upset. "Oh, Pheebs, I don't want to leave on your birthday."_

_            Phoebe smiled. "Don't worry about it. You can make it up to me. Now go, and make up with Chandler."_

_            "Are you sure?" _

_            Phoebe nodded. "I'd rather have you miss a couple hours of my birthday than see something happen between you and Chandler. You two give the rest of us hope."_

_            Monica tilted her head slightly, fighting back a tear. "Thanks, Pheebs. I owe you." She gave her a quick hug before waving down a cab. Monica sat down and gave to cab driver directions. _

_            "Another curious onlooker?" He asked._

_            "I'm sorry?"_

_            "You wanna go see the fire?"_

_            Monica felt her blood run cold. "What fire?"_

_            "The one at the building we're heading towards." He glanced back in the rearview mirror and saw the look on Monica's face. "Oh, you didn't know. Do you know someone who lives there?"_

_            Monica nodded. "Yeah, I do."_

_            "Oh, I'm sorry."_

_            "Are you sure it's this building?" She asked, but she didn't need to. They were quickly approaching it and she could see people scattered around watching the commotion. She could only hope Chandler was among them. She got out of the cab as soon as possible and ran the remaining distance to the taped off area. _

_            "Chandler!" She began screaming. "Chandler!" She saw many curious people staring at her as she dashed through the crowd. Many wore sympathetic expression, as if they knew she had lost something she would never get back. "Chandler," she cried out again, this time much quieter. She got the attention of a policeman, who informed her that no one above the second floor got out. The fire had spread too quickly. He was very sorry for her loss. _

_            Monica refused to give up hope. She glanced through the crowd once again, but didn't see his familiar face. She felt a sob release from her mouth and she felt the tears begin to flow. She knew he had left his office, she had called and asked. He couldn't have gone to the restaurant, it was too late. He was gone._

_            She felt the tears increase as she realized she had been mad at him for not showing up. She had thought of all sorts of thing she could say to him for not showing up to Phoebe's birthday. Waves of guilt and remorse swept through her body. She collapsed against the building across the street, Ross' building. She pulled her knees in to her body and cried. How could he be gone._

_            After a few moments she pulled her cell phone from her pocket and dialed._

_            Rachel smiled as she glanced around the small pub they had found on the corner. Joey was sitting beside her on a barstool, hitting on women as they walked passed. She laughed as she watched Ross and Phoebe fumble around on the dance floor. Phoebe had somehow managed to convince him to dance with her. He looked awkward dancing in his traditional way while Phoebe was dancing in a not-so-traditional way. _

_            Rachel jumped as she felt her phone begin to vibrate in her pocket. Joey gave her an odd look when she jumped. Rachel rolled her eyes and pulled out the phone._

_            "Hello," she said into the receiver. _

_            "Rach," she heard a timid voice say._

_            "Monica?" She asked._

_            There was no reply, but she could hear Monica crying._

_            "Monica, are you okay? Did something happen between you and Chandler?"_

_            The crying increased at the mention of Chandler. _

_            "Monica, please say something."_

_            "He's dead," was all she heard._

_            "What?" Rachel asked, shaking her head. She must have heard wrong._

_            "He's dead, Rachel. There was a fire." Monica trailed off into more tears._

_            "Oh my God," Rachel whispered, feeling tears come to her eyes. _

_            "What's wrong?" She heard Joey ask from beside her, but she waved him to be quiet. She noticed Ross and Phoebe approaching them, as they had sent he look on her face._

_            "Monica, I'm so sorry."_

_            "I can't do this, Rach. How can he be gone? I love him so much. So much."_

_            "I don't know what to say, Monica. Where are you? Are you still there?"_

_            "Yeah."_

_            "We're on our way."_

_            "Okay."_

_            Rachel hung up her phone and was immediately in motion. "We're leaving," she announced._

_            "Rachel, what's wrong?" Ross asked, very alarmed by the tears streaking down Rachel's face._

_            "I'll explain on the way."_

_            They went out the door of the restaurant. Rachel saw a commotion down the street, so she didn't bother hailing a cab. They would never get there. The street was blocked and it looked like someone had been hit, but she didn't have time to think about it._

_            "Rachel, you have to tell us what happened," Ross said, as they rushed down the streets towards the apartment._

_            "There was a fire. Chandler was in the apartment."_

_            "Oh my God, did he get out?" Joey asked._

_            Rachel stopped, and subsequently so did everyone else. "No he didn't Joey," she cut in before he could say anything. "But we can't dwell on that now. We need to be there for Monica."_

_            Everyone nodded in agreement. They continue their run, and rounded the last corner. It was an awful sight. The building was almost gone, only a heap of burnt material was left. They all began searching for Monica and it was Phoebe who spotter her first, crouched into a ball against the wall. She immediately rushed over to her, the rest of the gang at her heels._

_            "Oh, Monica," she whispered as she pulled her into a long hug. Monica's body was trembling and her face tear streaked. "I'm so sorry."_

_            Monica was aware of her friends surrounding her, but she couldn't feel anything. The only thing she could think about was that he was gone and she would never see him again._

            Monica jolted awake from her dream, panting heavily. She sighed sadly as she felt the all too familiar tears come to her eyes. She had this dream all the time, and it never got easier when she woke up, because it was her reality. She breathed in and out a few times, trying to get a hold of her nerves. It was at that moment she realized she was not in her room, and she was not alone in the bed. All of the events of the passed weeks came rushing back to her and she almost cried again, this time with relief. Chandler was okay, he was alive, fast asleep beside her. 

            Monica lay back down and snuggled in close to Chandler. Even in his asleep state his body responded by pulling her in close. Monica fell back to sleep wrapped tightly in Chandler's arms with the knowledge that she would never have that dream again.

AN: I found out something cool. I checked the date I became a member here and it was exactly one year ago today. I thought that was pretty cool. Anyway, let me know what you think.


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